


Blossomed Through The Rain

by gooeyglassanimals



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, Blangst, Bulimia, Bullying, Eating Disorders, Emotional Abuse, Graphic Description, Heavy Language, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Insomnia, M/M, Major/Severe Depression, Mental Abuse, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Negative Thoughts, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Physical Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torment, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-04 15:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gooeyglassanimals/pseuds/gooeyglassanimals
Summary: "There's a big difference between knowing and believing," he whispered softly as he looked down at his hands, "I know you all care about me, at least to some extent, but that doesn't mean I believe it—especially not after what you've all done to me."Sometimes life doesn't end up the way we expected and it rains down on us, completely soaking us until we're nothing but withered up flowers—but that's what time, love, and healing are for: to help us blossom through the rain.





	1. How It All Started

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves! Yes, I'm back with another story and at the moment, I'm putting a hold on SOTMAF since it needs some serious editing. I'm still editing and revising this story as well, but this is sort of a glimpse of what it'll be about since this is a sort of prologue to it??? This is obviously a Klaine work, but it will mainly focus on Blaine and his sort of coming-of-age story, in a sense. Anyways, this is probably the darkest story I've ever written since it will be EXTREMELY HEAVY on the blangst and just overall pretty intense. 
> 
> On that note, I advise everyone to please look at the tags and warnings as everything in them will be present throughout the story. For most chapters, I will post certain warnings and trigger-heavy material that will be present in those chapters, but if not, it will be the usual warning list I have created. If any of the topics in this story or a certain chapter trigger or make you uneasy/uncomfortable in any way, please either skip the chapter or do not read the story all together since this work and its themes will be very realistic.
> 
> Well, enough with my rambling and let's get on with this sort of prologue. (As for when updates will be, I'm still figuring that out.)
> 
> WARNINGS: 
> 
> Major/Severe depression, negative and suicidal thoughts, self-harm (cutting, scratching, banging head against objects, etc.), self-hatred, self-esteem issues, eating disorders (anorexia and bulimia nervosa), insomnia (including nightmares), mentions of past sexual assault, mentions of past child abuse, suicide attempt, hospitalization, minor character death (OC), major bullying and torment by classmates and peers, violence, physical/verbal/mental/emotional/sexual abuse by family members, heavy use of vulgar and intense language, mild sexual content, and A LOT of heavy blangst for the majority of the work. There will also be graphic descriptions of the following: self-harm, negative/suicidal thoughts, eating disorders, past sexual assault, past child abuse, suicide attempt, major bullying and torment, all forms of abuse by family members, and flashbacks.

It all started in the second grade.

There had been a new girl in their class, Lucy Fabray, who had moved to Lima from Illinois. For the first week, none of the kids really talked to her, so he had gone out of his way to say hi to her everyday to make sure she knew someone noticed and liked her.

It had been going well at first, up until the fourth week.

He had been making his way up to her to do his daily greeting, but right as he went to open his mouth to say hi, she rounded on him.

“Can you stop saying hi to me everyday? It’s annoying and I really don’t like you.”

That was a moment he would always remember.

The next time had been in fourth grade.

He had developed a friend group that he hung out and played with everyday at school. His group consisted of Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang, and Artie Abrams, who had been a year younger than all of them. Everything had been going smoothly until one day, Finn began to develop some sort of hatred for him for no apparent reason. Because of that, and considering that he was the ringleader, the entire group turned on him and basically kicked him out, leaving him to spend the rest of the school year alone.

When Artie got into a car accident with his mother that summer, paralyzing him from the waist down, he had tried to be there for him, especially after the rest of the boys shunned him from their group. Except, when he did so, Artie yelled at him and pushed him away, stating that he wasn’t going to hang around the weirdo that nobody likes.

The same thing happened in the fifth grade with his new group of friends, and that was when he had begun to look at himself differently.

And not in a good way.

That was also the year when his Aunt Jane died in a car accident and as cruel as it sounded, part of him felt _relieved_ by it.

Middle school was even worse.

Lucy Fabray was still alone and the kids at school had started to bully her, calling her names like “Lucy Caboosey” and so on. He had tried sticking up for her multiple times because even though she had told him off in second grade, he still liked her and believed she was a good kid who needed a friend.

“I want friends, but I don’t want _you_ as one of them,” she had told him one day after he had stood up for her. “Now bug off and don’t talk to me ever again, _freak_.”

He never spoke to her again, even after she had transferred schools due to the bullying.

Finding his place in middle school was even harder than he thought since kids were starting to get meaner and develop new attitudes. He had always stayed the same, even when he got chased and tormented after school when he went home; even when kids would start bullying him during school; even when one of his so-called friends stole his script for the drama club he had been running and claimed it as his own; even when he was falsely accused of staring at the guys in the locker rooms in seventh grade and got beat up on the courtyard for it by Finn and Puck.

He had stayed the same on the outside, but on the inside? That was entirely different story.

He hadn’t really planned for it to happen, but one day during seventh grade when he was alone at home with both his parents at work, he had wandered into the kitchen to cut himself an apple. Right when he was about to cut it, he had stopped and stared at the knife for a few moments and then glanced over at his forearm.

Before he knew it, he was sinking the blade into the soft skin of his forearm, creating a deep, long gash.

Funny thing was, it didn’t really hurt. In fact, he felt relieved by it. It was only when he started bleeding heavily that he panicked because what would he tell his parents? That the knife had slipped and he accidentally cut himself? That he got bitten by the neighbor’s dog while he was outside? Everything else had been a blur—wrapping his arm up in some gauze and lying to his parents by making up a story. They had been skeptical by the situation and cover-up that he used, but said nothing more about it.

That was the one scar that would never fully fade away as he got older.

Even though his academic performance began to slack in seventh grade—earning him more D’s and one F than A’s and B’s—eighth grade was when things really started going downhill.

He had come out during the summer before his final year in middle school began and the outcome wasn't a good one. His parents hadn't taken it well, much to his surprise since he had never heard them say anything disrespectful about the LGBTQ community. Instead of being supportive like he believed they would, they spent the entire summer constantly reminding him how “wrong” and “sick” he was, and how they couldn't understand why he liked men when he was supposed to like women. His father had even tried engaging him in “manly” activities in an attempt to make him straight—like rebuilding a car—but to no avail.

His summer had consisted of night long fights along with verbal and emotional abuse by both of his parents, and while his older brother supported and accepted him, not once did he ever stand up for him the way he had always stood up for Cooper throughout their lives.

He had planned on staying in the closet during eighth grade, but somehow, word got out and being one of the only openly gay kids at school made him the biggest target for bullies. Every day, he was pushed, tripped, and shoved to the ground or into a locker by nearly everyone at school, a majority from his own grade. Because of the physical abuse, he began to slack even more in school, causing his parents to give him a verbal beating on how stupid and useless he was.

So, with problems at school that included bullies and horrible grades, topped with the constant abuse from his parents, Blaine was beginning to let everything get to him. He began to see himself the way everyone else saw him, and because of that, he slowly began to hate himself, too.

It was hard not to, seeing as everyone around him seemed to hate him for no reason. Or maybe there _was_ a reason and he was too stupid and oblivious to notice it. Either way, he couldn't stop the way his thoughts ate away at him, bringing him down every day even when he tried fighting back.

It wasn't until one night, when his mother went total apeshit on him because Cooper ratted him out for creating a Facebook account just to see what the hype was about it, that everything went to shit. She had cornered him in his bedroom, beating him with a belt and throwing a portable heater at his head all while screaming about how he wasn’t her son and he was dead to her.

That was also the night when he became good friends with the small blade from his razor.

He had spent the night in his room slashing his wrists and waist, tears streaming down his face as he replayed everything that had happened to him in the last year. It was in that moment that the thought of killing himself slowly crept into his mind, and for a moment, he considered it. He remembered getting up and walking downstairs into the kitchen, going through the cabinets until he found an Aleve bottle that was half full and taking it back upstairs into his room, stuffing it into his backpack.

Conveniently, his mother chose that morning to look through his backpack, finding the bottle and yelling at him.

“What the hell are these doing in your backpack?”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Bullshit. You were going to kill yourself with these, weren't you?”

“No! No, of course not!”

He barely had time to duck when she chucked the bottle at him. “You want to die? Well, go ahead, sweetheart. No one’s stopping you, but know that you’ll be the one suffering the consequences.”

With that, she had stalked out of his room, leaving him blinking back tears.

He didn't take the pills that day or any other day.

What he did do, was go to the counselor’s office and seek help, admitting to her that he was hurting himself and he felt as if he was losing his mind. Then he proceeded to admit that he felt as though he wanted to end his life because of everything that was going on.

The whole point of going to the counselor was to find help for himself. What he didn't count on was the counselor telling his parents everything, and bringing CPS into the entire thing. When he had explained to the social worker everything that had been going on, they had told his parents and Cooper everything too, leading all of them to basically shun him from them.

“You should learn to keep your mouth shut, Squirt,” Cooper had scolded him as he drove him home from school. “Shit like this happens to everyone, but that doesn't mean you should go off running your mouth and telling on our parents. The same parents who raised you, may I add. Do you really want to get taken away from them? Is that what you want?”

He had looked down at his hands and shook his head as he spoke softly, “No.”

The social worker recommended that he went to therapy to help him move forward and better his mental and emotional state. It was going pretty okay until his parents forced him to stop going, telling him that he was fine and that they didn't want anyone to think their son was mentally deranged or anything.

“You’re a man,” his father had said, “You don't need other people helping you solve your problems by holding your hand and walking you through everything. Learn to handle things on your own, because one day, you’re going to need to know how to instead of dragging everyone else into your problems.”

From then on, he never asked for help again, knowing that if he did, the outcome would be much worse.

In the end, his parents had made a mistake, and realized that they really should have kept him in therapy longer.

It was on the last day of eighth grade at the graduation dance, that his world changed even more.

He had been walking out into the courtyard to get some fresh air when he saw Santana Lopez being cornered by a group of older boys, most likely high schoolers, towards the back of the school. She was cussing at them and telling them to leave her alone, but the group kept coming closer and closer to her until one of them reached out and squeezed her breast, the other two coming around to grab her, one covering her mouth when she began to scream.

He couldn't stand by and watch what was happening.

“Hey! Leave her alone!”

He had ran over and pushed one of the guys down, causing the other two to let go of Santana and lunge at him. Unfortunately for him, he was small and not exactly muscular, so he basically got his ass handed to him while Santana ran off and never came back, leaving him to be nearly beaten to death.

If he had thought his parents would care more about what had happened to him than anything else, he was mistaken. While they did care about what happened to him, they cared more about the hospital bills and doctor appointments along with all the physical therapy he would need for his left arm and right leg.

“Next time, don't go saving people who don't deserve it,” his father had told him as he patted his right arm. “It's not worth it.”

But even as his father told him that, he knew in his heart that everyone deserved to be saved and that it would always be worth it.

Though in his mind, for some reason, he could never apply it to himself.

He spent the entire summer before freshman year recovering from his injuries, and not once did he go out.

When freshman year rolled around, he didn't have much luck in high school either. He continued to get bullied by the jocks and everyone else who seemed to hate him, and through all that, he managed to get his first boyfriend from a different school who had been a year older than him.

It didn't end well.

The rest of high school continued on in a blur, and while everything seemed to be falling apart in his life, he kept up a happy front, never showing the pain he was constantly in.

But in the midst of it all, he managed to find one good thing. Something that had always been there since elementary school, quietly observing, but had never been truly present until they came together in the middle of freshman year.

Kurt Hummel.

Although he had the beautiful boy in his life—one that he had been madly in love with since kindergarten—even that couldn’t stop his life from becoming a mad chaos that would never calm until the cause of it died down permanently.

And that cause was none other than Blaine Anderson himself.


	2. Show-Stopping Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, again! Before we get on with this chapter (still figuring out an updating schedule but it will most likely be Thursdays) I just wanted to quickly share that I met/saw Chris Colfer in San Jose the other day! He was absolutely AMAZING, and everyone adored him. On another note, in this story, Blaine is enrolled in what is called a Guided Studies class, which is basically a class that helps students who struggle with school and need the extra help, but are pretty independent at the same time. They also focus on college and career goals. I explained it just in case people haven't heard of it before and won't get lost with the story since Blaine's teacher in the class plays a big role in BTTR.
> 
> Okay, now on with the chapter.
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> Major/Severe depression, negative and suicidal thoughts, self-harm (cutting, scratching, banging head against objects, etc.), self-hatred, self-esteem issues, eating disorders (anorexia and bulimia nervosa), insomnia (including nightmares), mentions of past sexual assault, mentions of past child abuse, suicide attempt, hospitalization, minor character death (OC), major bullying and torment by classmates and peers, violence, physical/verbal/mental/emotional/sexual abuse by family members, heavy use of vulgar and intense language, mild sexual content, and A LOT of heavy blangst for the majority of the work. There will also be graphic descriptions of the following: self-harm, negative/suicidal thoughts, eating disorders, past sexual assault, past child abuse, suicide attempt, major bullying and torment, all forms of abuse by family members, and flashbacks.

“Okay, I came up with some suggestions for our duet in glee club.”

Looking up from the textbook he had propped up against the inside of his locker, Blaine looked over at Kurt and gave him a soft smile, providing him his full attention. “And what would they be?”

Kurt clasped his hands together and grinned. “I was thinking we could do one of these three choices—Candles by Hey Monday, Baby It’s Cold Outside by Frank Loesser, or Perfect by Pink.”

“Ooh, those are hard to choose from,” Blaine said with raised brows. “I think Candles would sound really good, but maybe we should rehearse each one and see which sounds best? What do you think, love?”

“That sounds perfect, B. Come over to my place after glee club today so we can rehearse?” 

Blaine nodded with a smile, “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, I’ll see you during brunch and fifth,” Kurt said as he gave his bicep a gentle squeeze—missing the way Blaine had winced slightly—and went off to his first period class.

“Ow,” Blaine muttered under his breath, letting his hand come up to tentatively rub his bicep, feeling the swelling lines under the sleeve of his zip up jacket. 

Putting his hand down, Blaine closed his textbook and placed it neatly back into his locker before he closed it shut and walked off to his first period Guided Studies class. 

Walking in, he smiled when his teacher, Ms. Claude, beamed and greeted him.

“Hey, Blaine!”

“Good morning, Ms. Claude,” he greeted back as he went to the computer cart and grabbed his assigned laptop before going to the back of the room and taking his usual seat at his table.

He looked up just when the bell rang as Puck, Sam, and Joe walked in together all with tired looks on their faces.

“Ms. C, can we just sleep for the entire period?” Puck groaned, collapsing into the table next to Blaine’s.

The teacher chuckled. “Sorry, Puck, but ya gotta work.”

“What about a ten minute nap?” Sam prompted with a hopeful look in his eyes as he sat down in front of Blaine while Joe did the same with Puck, both one table away. 

Seeing how tired the boys were, Ms. Claude sighed, “Alright,” she pointed a finger at them, “But  _ only _ ten minutes, then I expect some hard work from you kids.”

“Deal!” they all said in unison and proceeded to fall asleep right then and there in their seats.

Blaine shook his head and smiled as he opened his laptop and logged in with his school email. He checked his grades (cringing at them a bit when he saw how bad they were) and homework assignments (cringing again because he didn’t do any of it) before he added his personal account to the computer and clicked on google docs. Opening up the last document he worked on, he read through it and then continued from where he last left off with his story. 

In all honesty, Blaine spent more time writing and coming up with stories that he deemed it more important than his school work. He felt bad a majority of the time, considering the fact that Ms. Claude loved him and always cheered him on to do his work (which, again, he never did) when all he did in her class was write his own stories. 

It was especially bad now since it was early December and finals were coming up in a few weeks. 

Looking up, he saw the teacher coming over to him and he quickly clicked out of the document and back to his grades. 

“Hey, kiddo,” she said softly, using the nickname she always referred to him by, “Mind if I sit in front of you?”

“No, go ahead,” he answered, watching as she took a seat in the empty chair in front of him, right behind Sam who was still sleeping along with the other two boys.

“So, how are your grades coming along?” she asked, gesturing to the laptop.

Blaine blushed a little, “Um, not so good.”

“Here, can I see?” He pushed the laptop towards her and let her scan his grades for a moment before she spoke, “Okay, from what I’m seeing your English grade went up, so that’s really good. As for everything else, we can definitely work on it, no biggie.” She said all with such confidence, a simple way of her telling him that she believed in him and knew he could do it no matter how much Blaine put himself down.

Ms. Claude was by far the best teacher he’s ever had in his entire life, but she was also the most judged. 

Unlike all the other female teachers at McKinley—besides Coach Beiste, who was also like a sister to her—Ms. Claude was very masculine with long-sleeved button downs, fitted pants, and dress shoes. She was an average height with a skinny build, having short brown hair that was styled to the side in a swoop, an angular face, and black-rimmed glasses. 

Basically, she reminded Blaine of a dorkier, brown-haired version of Ellen Degeneres.

Because of the way she looked and also because she was a lesbian, many students made fun of her by calling her names and comparing her to goofy cartoon characters (Jimmy Neutron was the most popular among them). But unlike most people, Ms. Claude brushed it all off and none of it seemed to phase her as she continued on with her day like nothing happened. 

All Blaine knew is that if he was a female and a lesbian, age be damned, he’d go for her any day. 

“So, what do you think we should work on today?” she asked gently, “Any priorities that we should tackle first?”

“Uh, maybe English? I didn’t get a chance to do the assignment last night,” he answered.

Ms. Claude smiled. “Alright, that sounds perfect. Now, I’m going to let you get to it, but call me over if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, watching as she squeezed his forearm before handing the computer back to him, standing up and making her way back to her desk.

For the rest of the class period, Blaine tried—like  _ really _ tried—to work on his English assignment, but for some reason he couldn’t focus on it. That had always been an ongoing problem for him because no matter how hard he tried, he just  _ couldn’t _ focus on  _ anything _ revolving around his school work, and it had been taking a serious toll on him. 

Blaine had tried to explain it to his parents whenever they saw his grades, but as per usual, they refused to listen to him and just brushed him aside as if he was nothing.

Not that they were wrong, but still.

So as the bell rung, Blaine packed up his stuff, mumbling to himself about how he could never do anything right and how much of a lazy fuck he was. Getting up, he tapped Sam, Puck, and Joe on their shoulders to wake them up since Ms. Claude had decided to let them sleep for the entire class period. 

“Don’t touch me, Anderson,” Puck grumbled, swatting Blaine’s finger away.

“Okay, Noah,” Blaine responded as he walked away, acting nonchalant about the whole thing but knowing deep down it hurt for some reason.

Once he had put his computer away, Blaine gave Ms. Claude a fist bump on his way out.

“Bye Ms. Claude, have a good day!” he said cheerfully as he walked out.

Ms. Claude smiled and waved at him, “Bye Blaine! Remember to have a good day too, kiddo.”

“I will!”  _ Since when do I ever have a good day? _

Walking down the hall, Blaine waited outside his English classroom as all the students filed out, some of them purposefully bumping into him. He ignored it like he usually did. Once a majority of the students came out, he went in and greeted his English teacher, Ms. Hale, who greeted him back before he took his seat at the front of the class.

The rest of the students trickled in, one of them being Santana Lopez who sat right behind him with Puck. Finn Hudson came in and sat down in the seat next to his, scooting a good few inches away from him and turned to talk to the other two behind them.

One common recurrence for Blaine was that he was always alone in his classes—no one bothered to talk to him and always ignored him as best as they could (not like that didn’t already apply to his life). He had learned throughout the years that it was best to ignore them too, as a way to not embarrass himself like the many times he had before.

_ It was freshman year and Blaine had been sitting in his assigned seat in his rather noisy biology class.  _

_ Noticing how everyone else was talking and conversing, he turned to the group behind him which consisted of Finn, Puck, Quinn, and Santana.  _

_ “Hey guys,” he said cheerfully, not noticing how they were shooting him disgusted looks, “What are you talking about?” _

_ “Nothing that involves you,” Quinn answered answered with a roll of her eyes and turned her back to him. _

_ Blaine smiled at her. “That’s alright, it doesn’t have to involve me at all, but we can still talk, right?” _

_ They ignored him and continued on with their conversation, Blaine taking it as a silent invite to join them (they didn’t say no, so he figured he could). When Finn mentioned the Sound of Music, he quickly jumped into the discussion, interrupting Finn’s sentence. _

_ “The Sound of Music is absolutely amazing! Have you guys seen it? I love it because it—” _

_ “... is so gay,” Finn finished his interrupted sentence, glaring at Blaine angrily. “Dude, do you  _ ever _ shut up? We weren’t even talking to you and we don’t  _ want _ to talk to you.” _

_ “Yeah, man. We don’t like talking to faggots,” Puck added. _

_ Blaine deflated at that. “Oh. Um, I’m sorry. I-I’ll just turn around and stay quiet…” _

_ Santana smiled. “Well look at that, Hobbit’s actually doing something right for once. Good for you, now turn around and shut the fuck up or else I’ll castrate you on the spot, gay boy.” _

_ For the rest of the class period, Blaine kept to himself, and after accidentally doing the same thing a few more times throughout the year and sophomore year, he just kept to himself in general. _

“Okay everyone,” Ms. Hale said, getting the class’s attention with her nasally voice, which sounded very much like a happy witch on helium, “Turn to your partner and discuss the messages and themes that are present throughout the play so far. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Soon, everyone was turning to each other to talk either about the task at hand or something entirely different. Blaine turned to Finn and opened his mouth to speak when the taller boy glared at him.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Okay, but—”

“Dude,  _ stop _ ,” he snapped, leaning away from him. “Look, just because you’re dating my brother doesn’t mean I have to like you, okay?”

Blaine raised a brow at him. “I know that, but I just thought that maybe we could be somewhat productive and  _ try _ to discuss the messages and themes in the play.”

Finn rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

Deciding that it was pointless to try and get Finn to talk to him, Blaine sighed and turned back to the book on his desk, scanning through the previous act he hadn’t even read last night (actually, he hadn’t read any of the books or plays they were given throughout the semester and this one was no exception).

Ever since fourth grade, there had been this ongoing hatred that Finn had for him, a hatred he still didn’t understand. Blaine had an extremely good memory—considering the fact that he remembered  _ everything _ he had been put through and  _ everyone _ who had ever done him wrong—and he still couldn’t figure out what it had been or what he had done to make Finn hate him so much. It was the same thing with Puck, but then again, not really. Puck was Finn’s best friend so it made sense that if Finn hated him, Puck would hate him too. 

And  _ Blaine _ hated it. He hated not knowing what it was that he did wrong, which also seemed to be another problem with him—getting people to hate him like it was second nature. In all honesty, not a lot of people liked Blaine, or that’s what he believed since nearly everyone (literally) made fun of him, called him names, pushed him around, used him, and so on. But there was always one person who loved him and who he loved back just as much, and for that, he deemed himself pretty lucky to be with someone as amazing as Kurt Hummel.

Though when it came to Kurt, many people thought he was unlucky for being with Blaine and while he tried not to let it get to him, Blaine couldn’t help but find that hurtful—as if he wasn’t good enough for Kurt.

Which in his mind, he probably wasn’t. But still.

As second period turned into third, leading Blaine into his Food and Nutrition class, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to his relationship with the beautiful blue-eyed boy.

They had begun dating four months ago in August during the start of the school year and it had been amazing since then. For the first time in so long, Blaine was truly happy because of Kurt and everything that made him well,  _ him _ . He was a strong, brave, courageous, fearless,  _ beautiful _ individual who was independent and never let anything bring him down, always keeping his head up. Blaine loved that about him, remembering the day he had first laid eyes on him in kindergarten and immediately fell in love with Kurt, but he had never made an effort to talk to him throughout elementary or middle school and vice versa.

It wasn’t until freshman year, when they shared a lot of their classes together, did they finally talk and grew close, becoming best friends instantly. Being best friends with Kurt and getting to know him more made Blaine fall even more in love with him, which didn’t really help since he was having a hard time restraining himself from kissing the boy all the time. Blaine remembered being there for Kurt through everything—when he first came out to Blaine, and then to his father; when he tried out for the football team and made the final touchdown at the only game he played; when he tried out for the Cheerios and got on the team; when the jocks and neanderthals would bully or slushie him; when he had a crush on Finn and set their parents up together, only for it to backfire and the whole fallout with Finn happened; when his dad married Finn’s mom…

_ Basically _ , Blaine had been there for Kurt through a lot—not everything (considering that they didn’t interact growing up), but a lot. 

The last few months of sophomore year were when things really started to change. Blaine would find Kurt staring at him longer than usual, blush and stutter in his presence, and just overall act awkward around him. The summer before their junior year was when Kurt finally admitted to having feelings for him, but wasn’t sure how to go about them since all his past crushes all went to shit and he wasn’t sure if Blaine felt that way for him. When Blaine finally admitted to liking him too, they had both beamed at each other and decided to test the waters to see how things would go.

Only a month and seven dates later did Blaine finally ask Kurt out to which the other boy threw his arms around him and said yes. 

Ever since then, Blaine’s life had been looking up, and despite everything he was dealing with, Kurt made him undeniably happy and nothing could stop that.

Well, he’d like to think so, but he knew that sadly, it wasn’t the truth.

Blaine let his hand come up to rub gently across his sweater-clad bicep and made a tiny grimace at the soreness there. He didn’t really mean to do it, but despite Kurt being his happiness, everything that was negative in his life outweighed that, and while he didn’t self-harm all the time, it was definitely happening more than usual if the fresh scars all over his body were anything to go by. 

That was another thing that got him thinking. Kurt knew absolutely nothing about Blaine, or at least, the side of him that Blaine refused to show or let Kurt know about. He hadn’t seen any of Blaine’s scars or the bags under his eyes, all because he covered them with his clothes and concealer. He had no idea about just how  _ sad _ Blaine was all the time everyday, no matter what he did to make himself happy. He didn’t know about all the negative and morbid thoughts that went through Blaine’s head on a daily basis, or how it would get even worse when he went to sleep which made him end up not sleeping at all, hence the bags under his eyes. Kurt didn’t know Blaine Anderson, the boy who put up a front 24/7, just so he wouldn’t burden the boy he loved with his problems; the boy who used performing as a release, an escape from all his problems; the boy who gave everyone his signature show-stopping smile, no matter how cruel they were or the fact that  _ they _ were the cause behind half of his problems. 

He didn’t know because Blaine didn’t want him to.

Putting his arm down, he sighed softly and tried to tune into whatever the hell the teacher was saying, not understanding any of it, until he decided that he really didn’t care. 

The moment the bell rang, signaling that it was the start of brunch, Blaine was the first one out of the classroom and already speed walking down the hallways to Kurt’s locker. He waited there until he spotted his boyfriend rounding the corner with Mercedes, their arms linked together as they smiled and laughed. 

He wondered if he made Kurt look that happy when they were together.

When they caught eyes, Kurt instantly lit up and beamed at him before he let go of Mercedes and hugged Blaine tightly.

“Hi,” he breathed with a smile, pulling back to look at him.

“Hello, love,” Blaine greeted back and squeezed his hand softly. He looked behind Kurt and waved at Mercedes, giving her a warm smile. “Hey, Mercedes! You look stunning as always.”

The girl rolled her eyes as she grinned. “Always the gentleman, but thank you.”

Turning back to Kurt, Blaine leaned against the locker next to the other boy’s and watched as he swapped out different books and binders for his next classes, chatting with Mercedes as he did so. A few minutes passed until a voice came from beside him, bored and drawled.

“Well look at that, Hobbit’s back at it again with his creepy staring at Lady Hummel.”

Blaine looked to his right and smiled. “Hi, Santana. Lovely to see you today.”

“Cut the crap, Anderson,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest as she scrutinized him. “Oh, and by the way, you should probably go get a new look since your current one ain’t working for ya.” 

“ _Santana_ —” Kurt started in a warning tone but the Cheerio ignored him.

“I mean, your hair is basically  _ glued _ to your head, you wear clothes that probably belonged to your great great grandfather and you stumbled upon them in the attic as a child in some creepy way to be close to him, you’re as short as Bilbo Baggins, and let’s not forget to mention that even though I don’t really like Kurtsie over here, I do know that he deserves some serious arm candy and you are  _ far _ from that.”

Once she was finished, she flashed them a fake smile and a little wave before strutting down the hallways as if nothing happened.

“Lovely to see her today, huh?”

Blaine let out a small sigh and shook his head at Kurt. “It’s fine. I’m used to it by now and you know how she is.”

“Don’t listen to her, Blaine. She’s just a cold-hearted bitch who tries to bring everyone down because her life sucks,” Mercedes said, glaring at Santana’s retreating back.

“Hey, don’t say that about her—”

“Are you  _ really _ defending her after she commented on the way you look? That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“I just think that maybe despite being mean sometimes—” they both gave him a look and he rolled his eyes, “—okay,  _ all _ the time—she’s actually a good person. Everyone has something or someone that forces their walls down, but even if they’re mean, it doesn’t necessarily give us a free pass to be mean back.”

“Why not?” Mercedes asked, raising a brow. “Treat others the way you want to be treated.”

“And they’ll keep treating you the same because then it’ll just become a never-ending cycle of fighting fire with fire.”

“He’s got a point,” Kurt agreed, giving Mercedes a shrug.

She huffed. “Of course you would think that, he’s your boyfriend.”

Before Kurt could respond and defend himself, the bell rang again for fourth period. Mercedes said her goodbyes to them and left, but not before hugging Blaine and whispering to him, “You’re so kind it physically hurts, but I love that about you.”

Once they were alone, Kurt moved closer to Blaine and grabbed his hand, hiding it between their bodies and the lockers. “‘Cedes is right though, don’t listen to Santana and her verbal diarrhea. I love everything about you, okay? You’re perfect to me and I love you.”

_ You love everything about the version of me that I give you, and I’m far from perfect _ , Blaine thought, and a huge part of him wanted to tell Kurt just that, but instead he said, “I love you too.”

But even after Kurt left to go to his next class, those three words he had said kept playing over and over again in his head as he made his way down to the girls’ PE locker room.

_ I love you. _

Was Blaine a bad person if he didn’t believe those words because he truly didn’t believe that anyone could genuinely love him?

Probably.

Reaching the back door that went into female PE teachers’ office, Blaine waited outside, watching as the freshmen and sophomore girls exited the locker rooms. Many of them glared at him, muttering insults about him to their friends, laughing as they walked away.

“Faggot.”

Blaine tried not to flinch at the word, he really did, but the word struck him in ways other words couldn’t. He ignored all of them until the last one left and turned back to the door, knocking on it and stepping back. The door flew open to reveal Coach Beiste and he barely managed to get out of the way as she shoved a jock out the door.

“Who the hell are you to come and sneak in here?” she yelled, making the boy shrink back. “This is the girls’ locker room!”

The jock pointed at Blaine. “He gets to go in there!”

“Because he’s a TA for Ms. Belmont, so unless you want to get banned from every sport for the entire school year, I suggest you get your ass out of here!” That was enough to get the kid running away and down the deserted hallway without looking back.

“... morning, Coach,” Blaine said in a slow voice, eyeing the red-faced teacher.

Beiste let out a long exhale and gave Blaine a small smile. “Mornin’ kid. Come inside, Ms. Bel has some stuff for you to do today.”

Nodding in response, Blaine followed her inside the room, closing the door behind him and taking a quick glance at all the trophies and sports team photos around the small room before he went in through another door. Walking into the office, he passed Beiste as she sat down at her desk by the door, and went over to where Ms. Belmont and Ms. Gwen’s desks were. 

“Hi, Ms. Bel,” he greeted cheerfully with a wide grin, letting it grow even more when the teacher in front of him spun around in her chair and beamed at him.

“Best friend!” she exclaimed in her signature raspy voice, “Hello! How are you, Blainers? I missed you over the weekend.”

_ Not so good, but you don’t have to know that _ , he thought to himself as he sat down in the seat next to hers. “I missed you too, and I’m great, thank you. How about you? Anything exciting happen over the weekend?”

And then Ms. Bel was off on a rant about how her two daughters had been “stupid little brats” on Saturday, which led to her ignoring them for the whole day (“They’re both in middle school, they can handle being without me for the fucking day… _little shits._ ”) and then taking them out to Breadstix on Sunday night in a form of making amends. Blaine listened and paid attention to every word, nodding and humming in the right places until finally, Ms. Bel ended her story since she realized she was running late for her PE class.

“Okay, so I have a few things for you to do for me today,” she began quickly as she stood up and scrambled around to grab what she needed, “First, I need you to put in the grades for all of my PE classes, and you know how that works already. Then, I need you to grade all my Health class papers and put in those grades as well, and after that I need you to just wash my cups and containers in the sink and leave them out to dry.”

Blaine nodded, knowing that answering verbally would be useless since the woman was still talking a mile per minute.

“Also, could you please fill my water bottle with fresh water and put some ice in it?”  _ Nod. _ “And—OH! I almost forgot, when I come back I need you to drop off these papers in Ms. Pillsbury’s office for me before class ends.” Another nod. “Okay, I think that’s it…  _ OH MY GOD! _ Right, and on top of that I need you to look up some yoga classes for me on Thursday afternoon at this website I’ve written down here on this post-it.”

Blaine waited three seconds and then she was off again.

“Wait, I think there’s something else—”

“Woman, leave the poor boy alone and get your ass down onto the field to your class,” Ms. Gwen interrupted with a roll of her eyes to which Ms. Bel stuck her tongue out at her and began to walk away.

“Thanks Blaine! Hope it isn’t too much for you to finish, and I’ll see you in a bit!” With that, she hurried out of the room, tripping and stumbling over her feet like the usual klutz she was.

Ms. Gwen scoffed. “Hope it’s not too much for you,  _ my ass _ . That lady listed off everything she’d need done before a damn zombie apocalypse.”

Blaine chuckled as he sat down in Ms. Bel’s now vacant leather seat, adjusting the height so his feet were touching the ground. “And just to save  _ us _ from having her going insane during a zombie apocalypse, I’m going to get to work and finish everything.”

“Good luck with that, child, but thank you for taking the rest of us into consideration because Belmont going insane during a zombie apocalypse would be worse than the zombies or apocalypse themselves,” she replied jokingly before she yelled out, “Marley! Get over here, I have a class of pre-pubescent freshmen girls to get to!”

The sound of shoes running into the room made Blaine turn around and light up when he saw the familiar girl come into the room.

“Marley!”

“Hi Blaine—”

“Uh-uh, no time for chit chat right now, children. Marley, come here, you can talk to Blainers afterwards,” Ms. Gwen said, motioning for Marley to come over to her desk.

They spoke for a few minutes, Ms. Gwen explaining to Marley what needed to be done while she was gone, until finally, the teacher stood up and left, leaving the two juniors alone.

There was a beat and then Marley was bounding over, throwing her arms around Blaine’s shoulders from behind, hugging him tightly.

“I missed you!”

Blaine laughed and squeezed her arms. “I missed you too, Mar.”

Letting him go, Marley sat down in Ms. Gwen’s chair, spinning herself around in circles. “I have  _ so _ much to update you on.”

“Spill.”

So for the next twenty minutes, Blaine listened as Marley ranted about her ongoing boy drama with Jake, filling him in on whatever happened over the weekend with them. 

“... then Jake decided to text me out nowhere and ask if we could meet up, but I told him no and he actually got offended, but it was like why would he get offended? He was the one who cheated on me and broke my heart,” she paused and let out a sigh, “I don’t know what I’m doing. Is it so wrong to just not want sex so soon? Because that’s what got us into this whole mess in the first place, and I guess I just don’t get it.”

Blaine felt his heart break for his closest friend as he watched her slump in defeat, a sad expression on her face. “Mar, listen to me. You are a strong, talented, drop-dead- _ gorgeous _ girl and any guy would be lucky to have you. Hell, you even made  _ me _ question  _ my _ sexuality when I first met you.”

Marley smiled, pushing the chair he was sitting in with her foot as she blushed. “Stop it.”

“It’s true, and if Jake can’t see that or respect your boundaries, then honey, I’m sorry but he’s not worth your time. You deserve someone who will love and respect you, but Jake isn’t that person. Anyone who treats you the way he did, isn’t worth your time or effort,” he said softly, rolling the chair over in front of hers and grabbing her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. 

“Thank you, Blaine,” she replied with a sincere smile, “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably work,” he teased, nodding his head at the computer, “You haven’t even started.”

Marley widened her eyes, making him laugh. “Shit, you’re right. You are  _ such _ a bad influence on me, Blaine Anderson.”

“Whoops.”

Groaning, she turned around in her seat and began to work quickly at her tasks while asking him, “So how about you? What was your weekend like?”

Because her back was facing him as she worked, Marley didn’t see the way Blaine tensed up or the way his nails dug into the skin of his palms, breaking the skin and creating slightly bloodied half-crescent moons. She didn’t see the way he clamped his eyes shut and took quiet, deep breaths to steady himself before he answered.

“Same and boring as usual.”

In reality, the weekend was intense, especially when it came to his parents. There had been all types of arguments with the three of them, mainly  with his mother who never seemed to fail to remind him of how much of a failure he was or how useless he seemed to be. The bigger fights mainly consisted of his grades and how horrible they were (his parents had a right to be angry about that, he supposed), with the fact that he couldn’t raise them no matter how hard he tried. In his parents’ eyes, however, he was too lazy and gave up easily, purposefully setting himself up for failure later on in life. 

_ “Why can’t you be more like your brother? Look at where he is now—he’s a successful actor who didn’t give up and yet here you are, failing a majority of your classes.” _

His mother’s words rang loudly in his ears, making him bow his head and cover his ears as if she were actually there, yelling at him.

Why  _ couldn’t _ he be more like Cooper? Why  _ couldn’t _ he make his parents proud of him for once?  _ Why _ was he such a failure? 

Blaine didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder and he turned around to see Marley looking at him with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay?”

That was the big question, wasn’t it? 

_ Was _ Blaine okay? 

The answer was no. He wasn’t okay and he hasn’t been okay in a long time, but no one needed to know that. So instead of being honest, Blaine did what he did best. 

He lied.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired,” he said with a smile, giving Marley’s hand a light squeeze before they both got back to work.

Tired wasn’t even half of it, and his smile had been far from real. But he was okay, as long as he kept telling others and more importantly,  _ himself _ , that. 

Right?


	3. This Is How It Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you should all know by now, I'm the worst when it comes to updating, so I apologize for this late chapter. This chapter isn't as long as the previous one, but it does center around giving you guys a glimpse as to what goes on in Blaine's head. With that being said, please read the warnings for this chapter in particular. 
> 
> The song used here is 'Echo' by Jason Walker.
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> Very dark and negative thoughts, talks of body image, self-loathing, and brief dub-con.

Blaine couldn’t sleep.

Well, technically, he never could, so it wasn’t anything new.

But Blaine hated it. He hated not being able to fall asleep because of the thoughts and demons that decided to invade his mind at night, making sure that he cried himself to sleep.

He hasn’t cried himself to sleep in months now, so he figured that was a good thing, or at least the fact that maybe it wasn’t affecting him as much now. Though part of him felt like that wouldn’t last.

Not a lot of things lasted long for Blaine.

Picking up his phone from where it was charging on his nightstand, he checked the time and sighed.

_3:45am._

Deciding that trying to sleep was useless at this point, Blaine sat up and unplugged his phone before throwing the covers off and getting out of bed. In doing so, he accidentally woke up his loyal Cairn Terrier, Beanie, who opened her eyes and stared at him as she lay on her side on his bed.

“Sorry, girl,” he apologized softly and scratched the top of her head, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Beanie huffed in response and stretched her small legs out, sitting up to scratch her ear. Leaning down, Blaine fastened on her harness vest and gave her nose a kiss.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

After throwing on a black hoodie and his Converse sneakers, opting to stay in his red flannel pants, Blaine put Beanie’s little Christmas sweater on over her vest and rolled her onto her back to put on her little black boots. There was piles and piles of snow outside and the pavement was freezing cold, so there was no way in hell Blaine was letting his best friend’s paws suffer through any of it. Once he was done, he went across the room to find the retractable leash while Beanie still lay on her back, her brown eyes darting back and forth across the ceiling.

_Huff._

“I know, I know. You don’t like the boots, but your paws are gonna freeze off, baby,” Blaine explained to her as he came back and rolled her onto her side so he could attach the leash through the small hole in her sweater. “Now, up. You’ve been gaining weight from all the food you’ve been stealing from me, and now you’re gonna work it off.”

Beanie let out a sigh and waited a few seconds before rolling over and standing on her legs. She stretched them out and then stood up on her hind legs, placing her paws on Blaine’s stomach, wagging her tail as she looked up at him. Taking that as a good sign, Blaine picked her up and cradled her to his chest as he walked out of his room quietly and then down the stairs, making sure not to make any noise. He grabbed some doggy bags on the way out and shut the door softly behind him as they left, and then placed Beanie down on the ground.

“Alright, Beanie baby, where should we go?”

She tugged them into the right direction, making him chuckle. “Of course.”

So they walked down the empty neighborhood, making a few turns here and there as Blaine listened to his music and Beanie took some bathroom breaks. As they walked, Blaine looked around him—at the houses, the trees, the mounds of snow everywhere, the night sky, and the falling snow. He took in the emptiness of the streets and the darkness that seemed to surround everything at this time of night. All the lights were off in all of the houses he walked by and there was no one else around.

He was alone (besides being with Beanie), and while it usually left an uneasy feeling in his stomach, right now it was comforting and he welcomed it.

He wasn’t sure how long they had walked for, but when they finally stopped, they were at the park which was completely empty and deserted. Walking over to the swings, Blaine sat down in one of them and placed Beanie in his lap as he lightly swung back and forth, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he listened to the next song on his playlist.

 _Hello, hello_  
_Anybody out there? Cause I don't hear a sound_  
_Alone, alone_ _  
I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now_

 _I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_  
_Like a fool at the top of my lungs_  
_Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_  
_But it's never enough_  
  
_Cause my echo, echo_  
_Is the only voice coming back_  
_My shadow, shadow_  
_Is the only friend that I have_

Opening his eyes, Blaine stared up at the night sky and blinked back tears as he listened to the lyrics. He couldn’t help but realize in that moment that he didn’t have many friends. The only ones he had were Kurt, Sam, Mercedes, and Marley, and even they had more friends than he did.

For some reason, Blaine had always had a feeling that he was meant to be alone, as if it was written in the stars and couldn’t be rearranged by any means. All his life people had hated and shunned him, ruthless in their treatment of him, and while it had been happening for years, he still didn’t know why.

Was he really a bad person? Had he done something he couldn’t remember and that was why people hated him?

Blaine didn’t know.

There was a lot he didn’t know.

He didn’t know why so many people hated him, or why his family hated him. He didn’t know why Kurt was dating him or why he even loved someone like Blaine (that was _if_ he even really meant those three words when he said them). He didn’t know why his family treated him horribly or why his Aunt Jane did what she did to him when he was younger.

He didn’t know why he constantly felt sad or alone.

Blaine just didn’t know and wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but part of him wanted someone to just listen for once and hear him as he explained what went through his mind, and maybe even explain all of that to him if they could.

But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t, and neither could they.

 _Listen, listen_  
_I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give_  
_But it isn't, isn't_  
_You could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head_  
_  
_ When he first started dating Kurt, Blaine hoped that maybe he could be the reason why he was finally happy and no longer sad, but unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case. It was as if his sadness had overpowered the rest of his emotions, even though sadness wasn’t the only constant thing he was feeling all the time. Most of the time he just felt a mixture of sadness, anxiety, guilt, hopelessness, self-loathing, isolation, and even _nothing._

Kurt made him happy, there was no denying that, but for some reason unknown, it just wasn’t… enough? Blaine hated thinking that because he _wanted_ it to be enough, his heart already felt like it was enough, but his mind and body didn’t think the same thing.

So was there something wrong with him if even Kurt’s ( _supposed_ ) love wasn’t enough to make him truly happy and wash away his pain?

Probably.

 _I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_  
_Like a fool at the top of my lungs_  
_Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_  
_But it's never enough_  
  
_Cause my echo, echo_  
_Is the only voice coming back_  
_My shadow, shadow_ _  
Is the only friend that I have_

There was so much Kurt and everyone else didn’t know about him; so much that could potentially traumatize some of them, especially Kurt. Everything that went on inside his head was so dark and even a little bit scary, that if anyone knew, they’d never be able to look at him the same way again.

 _Kurt_ wouldn’t look at him the same way.

It seemed as though everything led back to Kurt and what he would think. Was it because Blaine cared about Kurt’s thoughts and opinions more than anyone else’s? Or was it because he didn’t want to ruin Kurt’s view of the world around him?

He knew that Kurt knew that the world wasn’t always the nicest place to be in, given by everything he went through. But Kurt had always had this view that even though the world had it’s bad moments, it didn’t _always_ have to be bad. He had heard and read a lot of stories about child abuse, severe bullying and torment that even _he_ didn’t go through, sexual assault, people having severe and major depression, those who self-harm and even attempted or committed suicide—he had heard and read about it all.

That didn’t mean he had ever seen or experienced it firsthand.

Blaine, on the other hand, had.

His life was fucked up in all types of ways, and even though he knew people out there had it worse than he did, it still didn’t change the fact that he hated his life and more importantly, _himself._

And god, did he hate himself. Borderline _loathing_.

In his eyes, Blaine couldn’t find one good thing about him that he loved or that he believed other people should love. There had been multiple times where he would find himself standing naked in front of his mirror, picking at all his flaws and everything he hated about his appearance.

Long story short, he hated _everything_.

There were so many afternoons and nights where Blaine would cry, wishing and praying that he could wake up the next day as somebody else. Somebody who was more attractive, more confident, more desirable, more _loved_. But he never did and never would, and the fact ate away at Blaine.

His mind wandered back to after school the day before with Kurt and their duet rehearsal.

Well, not much got done, at least, _not really_.

 _They had been working on their duet for glee club at Kurt’s house for a good hour (finally deciding on performing_ Perfect _by_ Pink _) while Burt was at the shop with Finn and Carole was out with some friends before she went off to work at the hospital. In that hour, they had decided which verses they would sing individually and together, and memorizing the lyrics. Just as they were about to actually practice it, however, Kurt had accidentally tripped and bumped into Blaine, sending them toppling onto the bed in Kurt’s room._

_All in all, they didn’t even try to get back up after they laughed and let their lips connect in a passionate kiss that soon turned into more._

_A few minutes passed as they made out, their kisses growing more heated and hungrier by the second, before Kurt’s hand found its way to Blaine’s upper thigh, gently rubbing over his jeans. Blaine pushed down the horrible and uncomfortable feeling inside of him and allowed Kurt to continue his rubbing, stopping himself from shaking violently or tensing noticeably._

_Even though they had been dating for about four months now, and they had been taking things slow, Blaine knew that Kurt wanted to take things a little further and test the waters out to see what they liked. Thing is, Kurt had been wanting to do that since the_ beginning _of November, and Blaine had always stopped them before things got too much for them._

 _For_ him.

 _It wasn’t that Blaine didn’t want Kurt—he_ really _did—it was just the fact that he was utterly and completely terrified of intimacy. Baring himself to someone in that way, vulnerable and up for endless judgement wasn’t exactly a very appealing thought to him, not to mention the fact that the whole thing already got ruined for him a long time ago._

 _But it was also because being with Kurt in that way meant showing him all of his scars and all the things he hated about himself. It meant showing parts of him that he didn’t love, parts of him that he was scared_ Kurt _wouldn’t love. After all that he went through a few years ago with two people he thought he could trust, the hand on his thigh brought back bad memories, but he couldn’t stop Kurt._

 _He_ wasn’t _going to stop him, not after making him wait for a month when he was clearly ready. If doing this was going to make Kurt happy, then that’s what he would do._

 _Blaine couldn’t—_ wouldn’t _—disappoint him._

_So he restrained himself from flinching, tensing, or shaking as Kurt slowly sneaked a hand up his shirt, making Blaine suck in his stomach a little so Kurt wouldn’t notice the pudginess on his belly. They continued making out as Blaine let Kurt’s hands roam gently over him, and just when he felt one of his hands inch towards the area between his legs, Kurt’s phone rang loudly, causing them to break apart._

_Blaine wondered if he truly was a horrible person for being utterly relieved when Kurt announced that his father wanted him at the shop in a few minutes, his blue eyes filled with disappointment._

Probably.

 _He wasn’t scared that Kurt would hurt him—he would never—not at all, he was just scared about disappointing him, because truth be told, Blaine wasn’t sure if he would_ ever _be truly ready for any sort of intimacy. Not after what happened years before._

_Yet if it made Kurt happy, then he would just suck it up and do what he had to do or what Kurt wanted him to do._

_So, after he got home that day, everything he had been repressing during their intense make out session hit him full swing, making him run into the bathroom and throw up all the food he ate earlier that day. It took him about an hour or so to calm down and stop shaking so violently before he got up and just went on with his day._

_But as he passed by the mirror on his way out of the bathroom, Blaine couldn’t help but think why Kurt would waste his time on someone ugly, disgusting, and more importantly,_ damaged _like him._

_He avoided any and all mirrors for the rest of the day._

It wasn’t even just his appearance that he hated, it was him in general. His personality was totally and completely flawed, he was annoying, he was stupid, he was selfish, he was a burden, he was useless, he was a mistake, and so on.

Basically, he _genuinely_ believes his mom should have swallowed his dad’s cumshot the night he was conceived. God knows their lives would have been easier if she had.

But it wasn’t her fault.

It was his.

It was and would always be his fault for everything that happened in his life.

_But 'til then_

_Just my echo, my shadow_  
_You're my only friend and I'm_

Tilting his head back down and looking at the empty park around him, Blaine swallowed as all the demons and negative thoughts came and hit him at full force.

He was stupid.

He was disgusting.

He was useless.

He was a burden.

He was fat and ugly.

He was hated.

He was worthless.

He was _nothing_.

Blaine’s breaths came out in short, fast bursts as tears welled up in his eyes, the vacant park growing blurrier by the second.

Why wasn’t he good enough? Why didn’t people love him?

 _Because you weren’t meant to be in the first place_ , the dark voice in his head told him, causing him to let out a small sob.

“Leave me alone,” he choked out, tightening his grip on Beanie who was fast asleep on his lap, completely unaware of what was happening.

This is how it starts. This was exactly how the cruel and vicious cycle that was his everyday life starts.

 _I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_  
_Like a fool at the top of my lungs_  
_Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_  
_But it's never enough_

First, the demons come out of hiding and keep him awake at night. Next, they decide to toy with his mind, never letting him sleep until there are two to three hours left until he has to wake up for school. Then, he’s exhausted for the entire day, never finding the energy to do anything anymore and when he gets home, he takes an almost four to five hour nap. And then _that_ leads to his failing grades, which leads to his night-long fights with his parents, all while he grows to hate and loathe himself even more.

And it all starts with the first thought that comes to mind when the demons come out.

_I fucking hate myself._

“I hate myself,” Blaine rasped as the tears streamed down his face, his body trembling from containing his sobs.

 _'Cause my echo, echo_  
_Oh my shadow, shadow_

So as he looked out, Blaine thought back to how quiet and alone it was as he was walking over, and how he had welcomed it. Now, however, he just wanted, _needed_ someone to be there for him for just once in his life.

It was all he was asking for without really asking, but was even _that_ too much to ask for?

 _Hello, hello_ _  
_ _Anybody out there?_

No one was there, leaving Blaine totally and completely alone with the demons in his head.


	4. Not Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably just going to update either every Thursday or every other week on Thursday since this seems to be an ongoing pattern. But hi, I hope you've had an amazing day and sorry you're reading this very depressing story. Enjoy or don't enjoy, whatever your little heart desires((:
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> Negative interaction with one's parents, detailed flashback of a past bullying incident, mentions of physical bullying, negative putdowns from a peer, negative thoughts, and self-harm (not cutting).

He managed to get at least an hour and a half of sleep before he woke up later that morning. The night had been long and stressful, and Blaine ended up going back home at around five-thirty in the morning. It didn’t help that he had to be up at seven, but then again, he didn’t really get up out of bed until around seven-fifteen. Either way, he still didn’t get much sleep and he hated the fact that he would be tired for the rest of the day until he came back home and slept.

 _After_ he finished his shift at the Lima Bean. Great.

So as he kept himself snuggled under the covers, cuddling with Beanie, he hoped that maybe his mother wouldn’t come in and yell at him for sleeping in just this once.

Turns out the universe had other plans and hated him just as much.

He heard his bedroom door fly open and the sound of his mother’s footsteps as she came into the room, opening his blinds and windows.

“Wake up, you’re going to be late for school.”

“Not really,” he mumbled under the covers.

“Blaine,” she said in a stern voice, “ _now_.”

With that, she left the room, leaving Blaine alone. Letting out a long sigh, Blaine waited a few minutes before he finally got up, giving Beanie a pat on her little protruding tummy, and made his way into his bathroom. Flicking the light on, he walked over to the counter and looked up at his reflection in the mirror and groaned quietly.

The bags under his eyes were even worse than before considering the fact that he had also been crying before he came home last night. Pulling open one of the drawers under the sink, he rummaged around until he found his concealer (the one he had stolen from his mother a few months back) and began to apply it under his eyes, making sure not to overdo it. Once he was satisfied, he went about his normal routine, relieving himself and then brushing his teeth before he walked back into his room and sorted through what he wanted to wear.

After deciding what he wanted to wear and changing into his outfit, he went back into the bathroom and began to apply his hair gel, making sure his hair was smooth and free of any curls. Throughout all of elementary and part of middle school, everyone made fun of him for his wild curls, constantly calling him names and comparing him to sheep and llamas, and saying that his hair looked like a bird’s nest. He had tried not letting it get to him at the time, but the reason why he started gelling it down wasn’t because his hair bugged him, it was because of an incident that occurred during the seventh grade in the boy’s locker room.

_Blaine had just walked into the locker room a few minutes after his P.E. class. Because he had P.E. as his last period of the day, he wasn’t in any rush to get ready and go home yet._

_Turns out, neither did any of the other boys in his class._

_There was a strange air in the room as he made his way over to his locker, ignoring the quiet chuckles and sniggers coming from some of the boys. Just as he was opening his locker, he felt and heard a fist slam against the locker next to his, causing him to jump and making the other boys laugh._

_His golden eyes met the brown and green ones of Finn and Puck._

_“Hey, Blainers,” Puck said in a teasing tone, smiling wickedly at him as he kept his fist against the locker. “How’s it going?”_

_Blaine forced himself to stay calm. “P-Pretty good, you?”_

_“Fantastic,” the mohawk-haired boy replied with Finn nodding in agreement._

_“Do you need s-something?” he asked quietly, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking._

_Puck laughed along with all the other boys. “Do_ I _need something? Kid, I got everything I need.”_

_“Then what—”_

_“_ You _on the other hand, need something. Isn’t that right, boys?” At that, all the other boys cheered loudly as Puck smirked at Blaine. “Thanks to our dear Finnegan here, who suggested this in the first place—nice one, man—it was brought to our attention that you were in desperate need of a haircut.”_

_Blaine froze. They couldn’t be serious with what they were suggesting… right?_

Wrong.

_He watched with wide eyes as Puck whipped out a pair of scissors along with Finn and a few other boys in the room, all of them closing in on him as he backed up into his locker until his back was pressed against it._

_“Wait, guys, please don’t,” he pleaded weakly, his entire frame shaking._

_“Come on now, Blainers,” Puck said, opening and closing the scissors in the air quickly, “We’re doing you a favor. You’ll thank us later.”_

_With that, Puck reached out and grabbed a chunk of Blaine’s wild curls and cut it off with the scissors, letting it fall to the floor. The boys cheered and hollered as those with scissors began to cut and chop off the smaller boy’s hair, laughing and throwing insults when they noticed Blaine was crying softly._

_“Stop, stop, please stop,” he kept repeating over and over again, but no one listened._

_Finn was the one to make the last cut, throwing the chunk at Blaine’s face with a smirk._

_“Nice haircut you got there.”_

_No one came to help Blaine as all the boys changed quickly and left the locker room, leaving Blaine all alone as he slid down onto the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Tentatively, he reached a hand up to touch his hair, gulping when he felt the uneven patches and chunks left on his head._

_What did he do to deserve that?_

_Blaine didn’t know._

_So as he went home that day, ignoring the other kids as they laughed and pointed at him, he went up into his parents’ room and stole his father’s hair gel before he retreated back into his bedroom and into the bathroom. When he flicked the light on, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking into the mirror, blinking back tears when he saw the state of his hair._

_There were uneven patches and chunks in every direction, creating a sort of jagged mountain with curls and partial bald spots. He reached up again and pulled at his hair with a shaky hand before he put it back down and steadied his breathing. Grabbing the hair gel, he squirted a dollop into the palm of his hand and began to apply it to his hair, adding more when necessary. Once he was done, he leaned forward and examined the job he had done. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad, in fact, his messed up hair wasn’t even noticeable anymore._

_Blaine smiled a little to himself._

_Everything would be okay. He could do this._

If only he had kept the same mindset throughout the next few years because currently, _nothing_ was okay and he had a feeling he couldn’t do anything anymore.

Taking a deep breath and counting to three, he forced a smile on his face and gave himself a nod in the mirror before leaving the bathroom, grabbing his school bag, and going downstairs into the kitchen.

His mother and father were already there, eating and talking when he walked in, ignoring him as he made himself lunch for later on in the day and grabbed a vitamin water, shoving it all in his bag. Before he could leave, his mother stopped him.

“Why do you have three D’s and two F’s in your classes?”

Blaine froze. “Um, they haven’t updated the grades yet. They should go up soon.” _Lie._

His mother frowned. “Are you not doing your homework or something? Why are they so low?”

“Uh, I, um,” he stuttered, his hands gripping the strap of his bag tightly.

“Pam, honey,” his father said as he typed on his computer, “don’t act so surprised. He’s been doing horrible in school for _years_ and no matter how hard we try, he won’t ever change his act. I am a bit surprised, however, that he’s managed to make it this far in school and never flunked once which means he’s doing _something_ right for once.”

“I know that, but that still doesn’t make it okay for him to keep maintaining his failure status. He needs to change his act or else he’ll never get anywhere in life or hell, even graduate. Is that what you want?”

“No, but I also didn’t want another kid and yet, here we are. We can’t always get what we want in life.”

Blaine swallowed around the increasingly growing lump in his throat before he spoke. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to get them up.”

“ _Sure_ you will,” his father replied with a scoff.

Deciding that he couldn’t take anymore of the conversation or his parents’ obvious disappointment, Blaine said a quick goodbye and left, hopping in his car and driving to school. He parked in the student parking lot, but instead of getting out right away, he stayed inside the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he felt an all too familiar hot pressure behind his eyes, his vision blurring.

He hated the fact that he let his parents get to him with their comments and disappointment. It wasn’t as if he _wanted_ to disappoint them on purpose, _it just happened._ In his perspective, it seemed like everything he did never lived up to his parents’ expectations and instead of impressing them or making them proud like he’d want to, he only managed to disappoint them even further.

Blaine hated that.

He also hated them. _Especially_ his mother.

Ever since things began to go downhill with his relationship with his family, he couldn’t help but hate his mother more than his father. He understood fathers were supposed to be hard on their sons and try to help them man up and be strong, but his father had always been _too_ hard on him. Growing up, Blaine always believed that mothers were supposed to be there for their children and be their anchor when the waters got too dangerous for them to tread, but that wasn’t the case with his mother. Instead, she seemed to let him drown and never bothered to help or save him in times of need. It was as if she didn’t care for him at all or even loved him since all she’s done throughout his life was put him down, make him feel worthless, useless, and let it be known that he was essentially dead to her. He was pretty sure that if she had the choice, she would go back in time and get an abortion if she knew he would turn out the way he did.

There was also the fact that Blaine didn’t understand why it was so wrong and horrible to hate one’s mother. Sure, she gave birth to him, raised him, provided him food and shelter, but those are all things that are required if you have a child and keep them. But what made a mother a _mother_ was the way she loved her child and treated them, supporting them and lifting them up, not constantly belittling and making her child feel as if they’d be better off dead than alive. And sure, sometimes he had good moments with her, but almost immediately afterwards, she was back to making him feel as if he wasn’t good enough to be her son. Blaine wanted to love her, his father, and Cooper, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had no reason to and honestly, he was okay with that.

After finally putting himself together, Blaine wiped his eyes and looked into the rearview mirror, putting on his fake smile once again.

Time to try and face the day and the obstacles that came with it with a positive attitude.

******

Blaine tried. He really did, but his positive attitude turned negative the moment he stepped into the hallways.

Apparently, the jocks had decided that today had been the perfect day to just have a locker shoving marathon with Blaine, shoving and pushing him into the lockers as they passed by him throughout the day. Unsurprisingly, Finn and Puck were the ones who did it the most, mainly together and Blaine could only watch helplessly from the ground as they high-fived each other and laughed as they walked away from him.

He was sure to have a lot of bruises after today.

When lunch came around, Blaine was sore beyond belief, and his day had been worse than usual. He took a seat across from Kurt who had Sam and Mercedes sitting on either side of him, leaving Blaine to be sandwiched in between Tina and unfortunately, Santana. Ignoring the girl who seemed to make it her mission to make his life miserable, he smiled at Kurt when he felt a familiar foot hook itself around his own.

It had been going fine until he saw Kurt place a hand on Sam’s arm, squeezing it as he laughed at something he had said. Sam leaned into to Kurt, whispering something in his ear that made the other boy laugh even more to the point where he was resting his forehead on Sam’s shoulder. Blaine knew that he had no reason to be jealous—Sam was straight and also his best friend, and Kurt wasn’t dating him, he was dating _Blaine_ —yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart sunk or the way the lump in his throat came back.

He had no reason to be jealous, except for the fact that if Sam was gay, Kurt would have probably gone for him instead. Hell, if Sam came out right then and there, Kurt would most likely dump Blaine so he could have a chance at dating Sam. Sometimes, Blaine wondered if Kurt was only with him because he was the only other openly gay boy that he knew.

Probably.

“Mmm, I sense a lotta jealousy, Hobbit.”

Blaine flinched at the voice and swallowed around the lump in his throat before he spoke. “I’m not.”

“Oh, but you are,” Santana whispered with a smirk, “in fact, I think you feel threatened beyond belief. I mean, let’s just take a moment to compare you and Sam with each other.”

“Santana, _no_ —”

“Hmm, let’s see… Sam has a killer body with killer abs and you don’t—I mean, honey, you’d probably rip his pants if you tried them on. He has beautiful hair and you have a cement head. He makes everyone swoon and you don’t. He makes Kurt laugh like crazy and will you look at that, you don’t. Actually, I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen Kurt that happy around you like he is with Sam, and let’s face it, Hobbit, Kurt would leave your ass any day for Sam. Oh, not to mention everyone loves Sam while everyone hates you,” she paused and a thoughtful look crossed her face, “yeah, that’s all I can think of for right now, but there’s probably more that I’m blanking out on. Anyways, you’re welcome.”

When she finished, Blaine was staring down at his hands, his nails digging into the skin of his palms, breaking through it and creating bloody half-crescent marks over the ones from before. He wanted to argue with her, stand up for himself and tell her that she was wrong—that Kurt would never leave him for Sam because he loved Blaine.

_But did he really?_

Instead of answering, Blaine resumed with eating his lunch, ignoring Santana when she muttered “pathetic fatass” under her breath before she got up and left with Brittany who had fallen asleep at the table next to her.

At her comment, Blaine put down his sandwich that he had made and pushed it aside, completely losing his appetite.

“Hey man, can I have that sandwich?”  

Blaine looked up at Sam who was smiling at him, with Kurt still resting his head against his shoulder, laughing silently at whatever he had said prior.

Blaine forced a smile back at him, “Sure.”

******

The thing was, Blaine went through the same process day after day. He would take forever to wake up in the mornings since he could never fall asleep at night until early in the morning, then he would remain tired throughout the day which in turn made him fall asleep in class and he could never process any of the information the teacher gave them. That led him to not doing his homework since he didn’t know batshit what it was about or what to do exactly, which then led to his horrible grades. At school, he would go through the same bullying like every other day, trying to ignore those people but never quite succeeding since it still hurt him whenever they said rude and mean things to him.

He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve to end up like this, but somehow, he had managed to piss off whoever it was up there at some point in time and in return, they had made his life a living hell.

It all came back and led to the same question he kept asking himself everyday and night: what was it that he had done wrong?

Blaine didn’t know, and it ate away at him to no end.

All in all, he had a really shitty day since people decided that today was ‘ _let’s-make-Blaine-feel-like-absolute-shit_ ’ day. Not only had people been total and complete assholes to him, but besides from locking their feet together, Kurt had ignored him all day and stuck around with Sam, laughing and touching him in some way. It all looked innocent, and it was, Blaine knew that, but he couldn’t help but feel as if Kurt was getting tired or bored of him. He also couldn’t help thinking back to what Santana said when she was comparing him to Sam and he hated that he knew she was right about everything she said and that was the reason her words hurt so much.

He was starting to realize that everyone’s words hurt him because even he knew what they were saying about him was true and he couldn’t find it in himself to deny any of it.

So, there he was, standing at Kurt’s locker at the end of the day, waiting for his boyfriend to show up so that they could go to Kurt’s house to rehearse their duet more before Friday. When he finally spotted Kurt coming his way, he smiled at him, and kept smiling even when he saw Sam walking next to him with an arm across Kurt’s shoulders.

“Hey,” Kurt greeted him as he moved to open his locker, laughing softly when Sam poked his side.

“Hi, love,” he responded, shoving his hands in his pockets, digging his nails back into his skin, ignoring the burn from the earlier marks.

Kurt scrunched up his nose. “Why do you always call me, ‘ _love_ ’? I don’t mean to be rude, but it just seems a bit too feminine.”

Blaine frowned a little and darted his eyes around. “Um, I-I don’t know, but I’ve always called you it and you’ve never seemed to have a problem with it…”

“Like, I don’t have a problem with it, I just think it doesn’t really help me seem more manly or masculine, you know? I already have a high voice and seen as a lady, so calling me that really doesn’t help me.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’ll stop calling you it, then.”

Kurt gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Before Blaine could say anything else, Sam intervened. “Oh! Did you tell Blaine yet about the duet?”

He gave them a confused look. “What about the duet?”

When both boys shared a look, Kurt blushing slightly and looking a little guilty, Blaine already knew what it was.

“Um, that’s fine.” _No it wasn’t._

“A-Are you sure?” Kurt asked softly, looking at Blaine with guilt in his eyes. “I know it’s super last minute, but Sam really needed a partner and you and I have always done the duet assignment, so I figured we could switch it up?”

Blaine looked at Kurt and gave him a small smile, “Yeah it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Sam clasped him on the shoulder and grinned. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“No problem,” he said in a small voice that went unnoticed by both boys who smiled wide at each other. “Um, I actually have to go and help my mom out, that’s why I was at your locker so I could let you know. So, uh, yeah. I’m just gonna go.” _Lie._

Kurt nodded and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Okay, I’ll text you later. Love you.”

“I-I love you too.” With that, Blaine turned around and left, walking towards the double doors of the school, Kurt and Sam’s laughter echoing from behind him.

When he got in his car, Blaine let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. It was nothing. None of it meant anything. Kurt and Sam were just friends and nothing more… right?

And the fact that Kurt said ‘ _love you_ ’ instead of ‘I _love you_ ’ didn’t mean anything… _right?_

Blaine didn’t know.

What he did know was that Kurt had left him for Sam and he was stuck doing a duet by himself. That’s okay, he’ll manage it all. Probably. But it was perfectly okay for Kurt to do a duet with Sam. Perfectly okay.

But if it really was perfectly okay, why was he crying? And why was the thought that Kurt was going to break up with him or leave him suddenly clouding the front of his mind?

In one swift motion, Blaine gripped the back of his head and abruptly slammed his forehead violently against the steering wheel over and over again, ignoring the loud honks that came from the car’s horn. He needed to stop thinking the way he did because one day it would really ruin his life and he wasn’t prepared for it, hell, he didn’t _want_ it to happen. When he finally stopped after a few minutes, finally getting a grip of himself, he leaned away from the steering wheel and rest the back of his head against the seat. Glancing at the rearview mirror, he noticed the angry red blotches against his forehead before he reached up to gently press against them with his fingers, wincing when he felt a familiar pain blossom through.

Blaine sighed. He deserved it.

After a few moments, Blaine drove out of the parking lot and went home, opting on calling in sick to his work. Was he crazy enough to let something as silly as a little duet make him so upset that he felt unable to go to work?

No.

Because Blaine wasn’t crazy. He just wasn’t. He was perfectly healthy and stable, so no. He wasn’t crazy, not at all.

… _right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short, but along with the last chapter, this chapter and the next will be fillers so you can get the gist of how Blaine's life goes, how his mind works, and how his relationships with people are. Throughout the chapters and the story as a whole, you'll notice a lot of repeats of certain phrases/sentences as well as repetitive thoughts, actions, and just all over the place when it comes to jumping from topic to topic and seeing one perspective of certain situations. This is because the story is being seen through Blaine's perspective (though there will be other character POVs later on) and part of writing him involves getting into his mind and writing chapters in a way that you understand at times, and don't understand at others since that is how Blaine's mind works—he processes things and information in a different way, and even manages to confuse himself at times. Things will start to kick off after the next chapter, and also, if you've checked the tags recently, you'll notice that I added a few more, so please take notice of those. And don't worry, you'll find out what's up with Kurt at some point.
> 
> Thank you and stay tuned, ma beautiful readers((:


	5. Used To It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible updater and I apologize immensely for that. This chapter features Kurt's POV in the beginning, and like the past two, it's fairly short. Next chapter will be featured in two to three parts and it'll be pretty intense, so be prepared for that.
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> Graphic description of child abuse, self-harm, in-depth mentions of current and past self-harm, and negative thoughts.

He felt like an asshole.

It wasn’t that he was pushing him away on purpose, it was just the fact that he had let them get to him. He usually didn’t, but his day had started off pretty bad and those football players and jocks had decided to be total jerks to him, so obviously what they had said would affect him in that moment.

Kurt was strong and had thick skin—those were things he liked about himself, but the fact that those jerks had ranted off to him about how feminine, girly, and ladylike he was, saying that even Blaine was more of a man than he was, hit him harder that day and ultimately broke the thick skin he had. Then, out of nowhere, Sam came to his defense and made the guys back off, which made Kurt extremely grateful.

Sam wasn’t overly popular like the other football players and he had a lot of issues going on at the moment, and Kurt knew Sam spent some of his time by himself at school since he didn’t like hanging around the team outside of practice. Not to mention that Quinn had also recently broken up with him, leaving the poor boy heartbroken. So, Kurt decided to spend the day with him as a way of thanking him, and also getting to know him more. Even though Sam and Blaine were best friends, Kurt never really had the chance to really know Sam, and since Blaine always said nice things about him, he figured that he and Sam could form a good friendship as well.

And that’s how he found himself sitting with Sam at lunch, laughing at all his jokes and impressions, across from Blaine who seemed to be having a bad day. He was about to ask his boyfriend what was wrong, but he knew Blaine wouldn’t have wanted to draw attention to himself or whatever it was that was bothering him. Then he saw Santana lean over to whisper into Blaine’s ear and noticed the way his boyfriend tensed up. Although he wanted to ask right then and there, he stopped himself, reminding himself again why he wouldn’t talk to Blaine about it at the moment.

 _I’ll make sure to ask him later_ , he thought to himself before he began to laugh at Sam’s Darth Vader impression. He knew that he was probably being too physical with Sam, but he couldn’t help it—the dude was fucking hilarious.

After lunch, Sam walked Kurt to class and along the way, they started talking about the duet assignment. During the conversation, Kurt found out that Quinn had dropped out of their duet to partner up with Puck, leaving Sam by himself without anyone. While Kurt really wanted to sing with Blaine (who wouldn’t?), he also really wanted to be there for Sam and thank him still for standing up for him when he didn’t have to. He figured Blaine would be okay with not doing a duet with him for once and told Sam that they could sing together.

“Um, I don’t know… Blaine’s my best friend and I don’t think he’d be too happy about it,” Sam had said, rubbing a hand behind his neck.

Kurt smiled and rolled his eyes. “Trust me, he’ll be perfectly okay with it. He’s really understanding and he loves you.”

He knew his boyfriend—his perfect, genuine, kind-hearted boyfriend who didn’t have a mean bone in his entire body and who he loved more than anything.

So, after school when they went to Kurt’s locker and he saw Blaine, he felt his heart soar. His boyfriend was the most gorgeous boy he had ever met and he still couldn’t grasp the idea that someone like Blaine was with someone like him.

But when Blaine called him ‘ _love_ ’, a nickname that he always adored and blushed at every time, he couldn't help but think back to what the jocks had said and got a little paranoid that someone might overhear and make fun of him for it. Even though he had told Blaine not to call him that, the way his boyfriend had instantly deflated afterwards hurt his heart because yes, he never wanted Blaine to stop calling him that, but his mind just wasn’t in a good place in that moment. And when he and Sam had told him about the duet, his heart broke a little more at how sad Blaine had looked, but he figured Blaine would understand and be fine with it because his boyfriend knew how to put other people first and that’s what Kurt loved about him.

He then cursed to himself when he noticed that he had said ‘ _love you_ ’ instead of ‘I _love you_ ’ in a hurry since Blaine had to leave, and he knew how much both of them hated not saying the full three words.

When Blaine had left, Sam had turned to him and gave a him a sad smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, I definitely consider Blaine as my best friend, but it sucks seeing him sometimes because he doesn’t even talk to me that much anymore.”

At that, Kurt suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to ask Blaine what was wrong earlier before he shook his head to himself.

He would ask him later.

He never did, and by the time he realized that, it was already past midnight and he felt like an asshole.

******

He was in trouble.

 _So much_ trouble.

While his parents stopped giving a shit about his education, they _definitely_ gave a shit about his job.

A job that he no longer had because he hadn’t called in to lie and say he was sick, and got fired for missing his shift without notice.

He had woken up from his nap (which consisted of exactly five hours) and went downstairs to get something to drink when he saw Cooper standing in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich.

“You’re back?”

Cooper had looked up and smirked. “Back and better than ever.”

“Oh my god, _shut up_ —”

“Blaine, don’t speak to your brother that way,” his had mother snapped when she came into the kitchen and took a seat at the table with her laptop.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, glaring at Cooper when he winked at him.

They made idle conversation until Blaine’s father, Richard, came in and sat down at the table next to Pam, kissing her on the cheek. He greeted his sons and went back to typing on the document on his computer, leaving everyone else to continue whatever conversation they were having.

Blaine and Cooper were right in the middle of talking about how Blaine was doing in school when the home phone rang. Richard got up and answered it, his tone of voice and expression growing more irritated by the second before he slammed the phone back down into its holder and gripped the counter, taking a few deep breaths. Everyone stood still as they watched him slowly turn his head and looked directly at Blaine.

“Care to explain why the Lima Bean just called me and said you’re fired because you missed work today?”

And that’s how Blaine found himself sprinting up the stairs moments later, taking two steps at a time with his fuming father trailing after him, leather belt in hand.

Running across the hallway on the second floor, he turned left and threw his bedroom door open, stumbling into the room with shaking legs. Just as he was shutting the door, Richard stopped it right before it clicked shut. Both of them struggled against the door—Blaine trying to close it while his father was trying to open it—grunting in their efforts to win. Catching a glimpse of the belt and his father’s angry expression, Blaine felt his eyes well up with tears, his face contorting as he tried suppressing a sob.  

“Wait, wait, please don’t,” he whimpered brokenly, pressing against the door harder, throwing his head back as he let out a small sob, “Oh my god, _oh my god_ , please don’t do it—”

“Blaine Devon Anderson, let me in _right now_ ,” Richard growled angrily, giving the door a hard push, making Blaine nearly lose his footing.

He shook his head, clamping his eyes shut. “No, no, no, you’re going to hit me, _no_ —please, just leave me alone—”

Suddenly, Richard shoved the door open, causing Blaine to stumble and fall onto the floor before he quickly scrambled to his feet and dashed into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door before he crawled under the bathroom counter and into the corner, far away from the door. He drew his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around them, gripping the thick material of his sweats in his hands, his breathing coming out loud and ragged.

There was a moment of silence, and then he heard the jingle of his father’s keys and let out a sob.

He had completely forgotten that his parents had the keys to _every_ room in the house.

When he heard the key slide into the lock, he lost it and began to openly cry, sobs ripping out of his throat as he saw the door knob turn.

“D-Dad, please d-don’t!” he sobbed, crying even more when his father finally opened the door and stepped into the bathroom.

Blaine tried pressing himself more against the corner, but found that he couldn’t. At this point, there were tears, snot, and saliva running down his face as he cried even harder, screaming when his father reached under the counter and grabbed his foot, trying to drag him out from under it.

“Oh my g-god, no, p-please! I’m s-sorry!” he cried loudly, trying to grip onto the tiled floor as Richard dragged him out from under the counter.

The moment the belt came down on him, he screamed and thrashed around, crying more and more as his father kept hitting him. Even as he yelled for him to stop, Richard didn’t listen and Blaine was helpless.

When it was finally over, his father left the bathroom leaving Blaine a mess on the bathroom floor, sobbing as he felt the sting and burn from the belt all over his body. At some point, he glanced up and saw Cooper standing in the doorway, looking at him with an unreadable expression before he shook his head and left the room, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

Blaine was weak, and even his own brother knew it.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed curled up on the floor until he finally sat up, hissing when he felt a familiar ache spread throughout his body. He was shaking and could barely hold himself up as he tried to stand, falling back down with a soft cry, feeling a new set of tears building up.

The Andersons were big on work and making money—both of his parents were professionals who made a lot of money and his brother was an actor who was doing well in his career, being able to provide for himself. Blaine knew that having a job was a big deal in his family because it meant that money was being made and they were being productive. Never in the history of the Anderson family had anyone gotten fired from their job before.

Blaine had been the first.

Realizing that he had royally fucked up, Blaine managed to get to his feet by using the counter as a leverage and leaned against it. Taking deep breaths, he opened one of the drawers and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He hesitated since he had promised himself not to do it again until the old ones had scabbed over enough to just peel them away, leaving no trace of anything behind. But he couldn’t follow through with that, not this time, because he deserved it.

Hiking up his shirt and pulling the waistband of his sweats down a little so that his left hip was exposed, he took a deep breath before slicing his skin with the razor blade, over and over again. He ignored the blood and kept going until his hip was numb and he couldn’t feel anything in that area anymore, deciding that even though he deserved to hurt himself more than that, it would have to do for now since he was tired. Washing the blade, he placed it back deep inside his drawer and began to dab at the blood seeping out through the cuts before he left the bathroom, shutting off the light on the way out.

When he reached his bed, he heard a small whimper and looked under his bed to find Beanie curled up in a ball, shaking.

“Oh, Beanie baby,” Blaine cooed softly as he reached out and gently pulled the small dog from her hiding spot, sitting on his bed as he cradled her to his chest. “I’m sorry if you had to see that.”

He watched as Beanie leaned over and sniffed at his hip before pawing softly at the spot, looking up at him with what appeared to be sad eyes.

Blaine smiled sadly. “It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

And he was.

He was used to being a disappointment, a burden, a failure, a mistake, and a complete joke to his family; he was used to feeling alone, not being good enough, and unloved; and he was certainly used to hurting himself over and over again until he couldn’t feel anything anymore, until his body was numb and the pain was no longer there.

He was used to all of it and he was used to the idea that he would forever live in the fucked up world he was put in.

******

Watching Kurt and Sam singing their duet together during glee club that Friday was hard, and everyone else seemed to think it was okay to make it even harder for him.

Santana had obviously said some things (well, _most_ things), making Blaine want to disappear even more (he managed to scoot his chair back against the wall on the top riser so he was away from everyone) and just basically wish he didn’t exist, while Finn and Puck, along with others, kept saying how Kurt would easily leave him for Sam even though the latter was straight. Blaine wanted so desperately to tell them that they were wrong, but he knew that deep down it was true—he’d never be good enough for Kurt, and honestly, Sam could probably make him happier than he did.

But then again, it also hurt knowing that people were trying to cause some sort of rift between him and Sam—they had been best friends since freshman year, and even though they didn’t talk much anymore (mainly because Blaine had closed himself off from Sam and basically everyone else), he still considered Sam as his best friend.

Sort of.

It was complicated, in a sense, calling Sam his best friend. The reason being that he never actually confided in him and whenever they were together, Blaine _still_ felt lonely and unhappy. He wasn’t sure if that was mainly because of him or because of Sam, but it was complicated and Blaine hated that. It was the same thing with Kurt because despite the fact that they had went from best friends to lovers, Blaine had never truly confided in Kurt, keeping a lot of things and issues he dealt with to himself—things that included the darkest parts of his past, self-harm, and everything that went on in his head. He figured that was just who he was as a person and it was no one else’s fault that he had trust issues or issues in general.

So, as he watched them, he felt himself resign to the fact that he could never compare to someone like Sam and Kurt probably (most likely) knew that as well.

He let his hand fall down to his left hip and after making sure no one was looking, he lifted it up slightly to glance down at the angry, swollen, red lines that covered his skin. Running a finger along them, he reveled in the way they felt, but he couldn’t stop the sad smile that came across his face. Hurting himself wasn’t something he was necessarily proud of, but it was an addiction that he couldn’t stop, much like an alcoholic or smoker, in a way.

The first time he had ever harmed himself was in the seventh grade while he was home alone while his parents were at work. It hadn’t meant to happen in the first place, but just as he was about to cut an apple with the knife he grabbed from the drawer, he had stopped for a moment and looked at the blade. He had always debated on whether or not he should try self-harm since he had heard it was pretty relieving and it helped someone focus on the physical pain instead of the mental or emotional pain. So, without even thinking, he had sliced it across his forearm, creating a long and deep gash. It didn’t hurt, which was surprising because it should’ve, yet instead, Blaine had felt relieved and reveled in the way his skin turned red and blood made its way up to the surface, coating his wound in a deep red color.  

The urge to do it again had been so strong that it scared Blaine and he had dropped the knife onto the counter, his hands shaking when he realized that he couldn’t really hide the cut, and wearing a long sleeve in hot weather wouldn’t make sense. So, he washed the cut out, put a bandaid over it, and lied to his parents, saying he had been clumsy and the knife had slipped. Whether or not they believed him, Blaine didn’t know, but they didn’t say anything else on the matter and let it go.

To this day, the scar was still there, pale and shiny against the inside of his tan forearm, a few inches away from his wrist. No one really noticed it, and when they did and asked questions, Blaine just shrugged it off and said that it was an embarrassingly long and boring story that no one wanted to hear about, and thankfully, they didn’t.

Pulling his shirt down, Blaine moved his hand to let his thumb run across the scar, everything from that day forward coming back to him.

The next time he had harmed himself was a few weeks before eighth grade ended after his mother went apeshit on him for making a Facebook page. He remembered running into the bathroom in his room after the whole thing, grabbing whatever razor he could find, and without thinking, slashed his wrists over and over again before moving onto his waist. Tears had been streaming down his face as sobs ripped through his throat, feeling as if he was a disgrace, wondering when or _if_ he would ever stop being such a disappointment to his family, especially his mother.

For the next three and a half to four years, Blaine resorted to cutting in areas where no one would see or look, areas such as his waist and hips, upper arms, thighs, all across his torso, his sides, his shoulder blades, and even sometimes across his backside and pelvis area after the incident that had happened during his freshman year.

It was an addiction and Blaine couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He figured that was another reason why he wasn’t fine with him and Kurt taking their relationship further in the sex department—not only would Kurt know one of his secrets, but he would be repulsed by his appearance and leave him. He thought that that probably made him a bad person, believing Kurt would do that do him because deep down he _knew_ he wouldn’t, but Blaine hasn’t trusted anyone completely in years, including Kurt.

Yeah, so Blaine was probably, if not highly likely, a bad person and he was slowly beginning to accept that.


End file.
